Little Addictions
by Spike's real lover
Summary: Takes place in entropy. Spike goes to the Magic Box for a little magical relief, what is he to do when instead of Anya, he finds Tara keeping shop? Can she help him drown out the pain, if only for a while?


Spike saw her dusting the magical knickknacks behind the register.

"Witch," he addressed Tara, "happen to know where Demon Girl has run off to? I need something."

"She said something about finding a woman who hates Xander."

Spike sighed, not even in the mood to take the easy bate on the whelp's appeal to women.

"Maybe you can help then. I need something to dull pain."

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Tara leaned over to counter, trying to peer over at him more closely.

"No, I'm not bloody hurt, not where anyone can see." He looked down. "At least not humans. I... I need the pain to stop. I can't... I can't live this way, I'm not living. She broke me."

Tara knew the feeling. She'd been broken so much. She smiled sadly.

"There's no magic in the world that can mend a broken heart. Only time."

"Yeah, well I don't want to be fixed, a decent cover up job will do fine. I just can't feel like this anymore. I need... Anything. Just something to stop this ache. I need to forget."

Tara shuddered at the thought of what Willow's answer to his problem would have been months earlier. If pushed, she wondered if the answer would be the same still. Doubt. She'd never stop doubting Willow, and it hurt.

"It doesn't work that way," she said softly.

"Well it should!" Spike snapped. "All this magic, all this, and you're telling me it can't even do what a bottle of whiskey can?"

"Magic can get you high, Spike. It can take your memory, and make you giddy, but only fleetingly. There is no future with it. You can't live like that forever, and when you come down, you'll be lucky if you recognize yourself. Luckier if you can live with what you are." She walked around the counter, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're hurt, I know, I'm sorry."

Spike closed his eyes, and angrily bit back bitter tears. "I have to make it end. Whatever it takes. I can't live with this."

Tara felt a jolt of fear as he opened his blue, listless eyes to look pleadingly into hers. He was desperate, and she knew, if left to his own devices, he'd act out his desperation. Either on the end of a stake, or in a condemning action he wouldn't be able to live with. He needed to dull his pain. She needed to dull his pain.

"Does alcohol really work?" she asked, borrowing, it seemed, some of his desperation in her search for a method to help.

"No. If it did, I wouldn't be here. It's not strong enough. It can make me stop caring, it can't make me forget," he whispered brokenly. He was weak. He didn't care she was seeing him weak. He knew she wouldn't taunt, wouldn't hurt him more than he already was. He knew.

She wouldn't advocate drugs, even so, she knew they wouldn't work. He was a vampire. His blood didn't flow through his body accept when first borrowed, his heart didn't beat.

"I. I w- want to help," she said, her heart thumping hard against her ribcage, the sound of the beat drowning out her rational thoughts.

"I- I k- know how to help, j- just a little, just for a while," she stuttered out before she could think better of her decision.

His eyes widened, and hope tinged the grief. "Yeah?"

She took his hand, leading him to a chair, where she motioned for him to sit.

"Magic doesn't come from thin air, it's inside. It's powerful, and it's inside every Wicca," she explained carefully. "That's why it can be like a drug. It's inside, it flows in their b- blood."

Spike frowned. Surely she wasn't suggesting what he thought she was. She couldn't be.

"Vampires," she said, "can feel it like a drug. Because it's in the blood. My blood."

"Tara," he gasped.

"J- Just take a little. A little w- will make you... I- it'll work for a w- while."

Spike shook his head. "No."

" You n- need to. I'm gi-giving you permission to. It's str- stronger than alcohol." She nearly growled at her stuttering. She thought she was pass it, but nerves always bought it back.

"Even if that's true, I couldn't. Not with the chip," he rattled off quickly. He was more nervous then she, he realized with no small amount of disgust for himself.

"But you don't intend to hurt me, and I'm offering," she said, forcing down the stutter. "You don't want to hurt me?"

"Never."

"Then please. Please let me help."

Spike nodded slowly. In the end, the chance for relief was stronger than the left over vestiges of his humanity. "I'll make it feel good, yeah? No pain. I'll be careful."

"I know."

Her trust would have stolen his breath had he felt the need to breathe.

He held out his hand, and she put hers in it. He slowly tugged her onto his lap, explaining that the angle would help. She didn't argue. He ran his fingers up her arm, slipping her sleeve up past her elbow. Her pulse beat wildly under her soft skin, and he held back a moan. He hadn't had fresh human blood for so long, and this was gifted to him. Given freely by the beautiful woman perched on his leg.

"I'll go slow," he said, pressing a chaste kiss to her wrist.

She nodded, her tongue too tied to utter intelligible words.

He pressed kisses up her arm, ending at the crook of her elbow. His lips parted, and he pressed them there, drawing blood to the surface of her tender skin, causing it to glow with a red blush as he suck her silken flesh. He felt her stiffen against him, and shift, but stay silent. His features shifted as his fangs came out. And still he didn't press into his flesh, and render her blood his. He suckled on her skin, ignoring his demon's demands. He didn't know whether fear, or the love of anticipation kept him from biting her, but he figured it was a mixture of both.

Tara closed her eyes, and press her thighs together tightly. The effect he had on her was only a partial shock. She didn't want men, but she had always felt an attraction toward the man who was teasing her flesh with his tongue. But she didn't expect him to do that. She didn't expect him to moan against her before even tasting her blood. She didn't expect it to thrill her so damn much.

The scent of her arousal tickled his senses, and his own body responded in like, and the tightening in his jeans was almost too much to bear. He needed to finish before he ended up alienating the only person he felt cared about him besides Dawn. He slid his fangs into her creamy skin, and her blood hit his tongue. He knew instantly he'd never be able to live without tasting her again. His arm wrapped securely around her waist, and his hips jerked of their own will as her throaty mewls filled the space between his ears. His jeans clad hard on rubbed against her thigh,and her sounds grew louder.

Tara knew why Riley would seek this. Her panties flooded with moisture, and her clit throbbed with each draw of her blood. Her limbs were heavy with the euphoria, and she wondered how Spike could go without blood if this was how it felt. She was positive everyone would line up to feel his mouth on them, and his fangs in them. Such gorgeous lips, she thought idly as they pursed around the wound his fangs made.

He felt her fingers in his hair, and he was certain she was going to pull him away, except she didn't. Her hand pushed him down into her arm, as though he were instead settled between her thighs, and her orgasm was nearing. The image made his dizzy head soar. He wanted that. He wanted to taste her. Every inch, inside and out. He wanted to hear his name on his pretty mouth as she came on his tongue. But she couldn't feel the same. He couldn't convince himself she wanted him, even as she moved, straddling one of his legs, and rubbed herself shamelessly against the rough material of his well worn jeans. Even as she bit his bicep to muffle her cries. He knew it must be his bite that prompted such behavior. He knew, but he didn't care.

Her body wracked with her shuddering unraveling. Her orgasm hit so suddenly,and so intensely that she was certain her screams could be heard from miles away. Her thighs trapped his leg tightly as she rode out her pleasure with the friction.

His eyes widened and he threw his head back, arching forward as his jeans filled with his sticky cumings. He hadn't seen it coming, he didn't know how she made him jiz his trousers without even touching him.

Their breaths came out in harsh pants, and Tara held onto him tiredly, her forehead against his chest. The sweat from her body clung to his clothes.

Spike realized how right she was. He didn't feel the pain. He didn't care about anything. Nothing except holding the goddess in his arms. His judgment may have been clouded by the truly drug like effects of her blood, but he knew his attraction wasn't one sided. If she didn't want him as much as he wanted her, she'd have been gone already. If it was just her being nice, and being turned on only by his bite, she would be stuttering, and walking away awkwardly, not holding him so tightly he was certain she'd never let go.

"Thank you," he murmured, wrapping his arm around her, and kissing her shoulder. He couldn't imagine his luck. If he had come earlier and caught Anya instead of Tara, he didn't know what might have happened, except that it wouldn't have been as marvelous, and earth shattering as what Tara had given him.

"It's okay, Spike," she said against his neck. "You're welcome." Always welcomed.

XxXxXxXx

"You sure you secured the camera's against Willow?" Jonathan asked Warren, though his eyes never left the screen.

Warren waved him off. "Dude, of course, now shut up. Andrew, rewind the footage."

Andrew readily did so, sighing happily as he rewatched Spike softly caress Tara's arm with his lips. He bit his tongue against any adoring remarks he might have made about the vampire. Jonathan already looked at him funny, he didn't need to give him anymore wood for _that _fire.


End file.
